Only One
by Flair Verona the Slytherin Queen
Summary: This is a slightly dramaangstromance HHR story. I got the idea while listening to Only One by Yellowcard...not a band I like but the song is good. It's a work in progress for sure. No smut yet, but it will eventually maybe...but for now just teen.


A/N Ok guys and dolls it's been quite awhile since I've written anything! Shocking isn't it? It's high time I did something new. I'm in college and working sooooo updates will be erratic. That is if I even continue this to any extent. So far it's a one-shot, but we'll see. I hope you enjoy it!

WARNING I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!! Yeah…that about covers it…wonder if I'm aloud to own Draco?

Only One

Harry Potter sat in front of the fire staring morosely at the flickering flames licking the inside of the fire place at Grimauld Place. He took another swig out of the bottle in his hand and wincing as the fire whiskey burned his throat going down. He then noticed the bottle was empty and annoyed, he threw the empty bottle into the fire hearing it smash against the back of the fire place. Harry Potter was definitely not doing well. He was having his own pity party and felt he was solely responsible for the actions that lead to this little party.

Harry glanced at the pictures on his mantle and his eyes softened considerably. In the biggest most ornate frame was a picture of the girl he was responsible for hurting. Hermione Granger's soulful chocolate eyes stared back at him from within the picture, the light and fire captured in her eyes showing her lively spirit. She was his Gryffindor princess. And he had ruined it all.

He had confessed to her he loved her when they were on the horcrux hunt after Bill and Fleur's wedding that summer after their 6th year at Hogwarts. It was so shocking to most when they found it was Harry and Hermione, and not Ron and Hermione. Ron had an inkling that it would eventually be that way and was reluctantly ok, much to every one's shock. And Harry was happy in the darkest times of his life, he knew they could be his last and wanted to live as much as he could. He experienced every bit of Hermione he could. He even married her.

Oh yes, he could remember their small ceremony in great vivid detail. Oh how he loved her, both crying out of pure joy as they recited their vows. Oh he knew how foolish he had been to mess that up. After the war things were under way to rebuild in the wake of the fall of Voldemort. The wizarding world was finally free. And Harry, most importantly, was free to live his life.

Harry and Hermione moved into Grimauld Place and began a new life together learning how to live without fear once again. But Harry grew restless. He wondered what all he had missed while he was risking his own neck for the wizarding world. He would go through tantrums and often shout or take it out on Hermione. While he was never physically harmful, he found he was saying cruel things…blaming her for already being tied down into marriage. He hadn't expected to live through the war. And while he loved Hermione, he felt that he had missed out on experiences with other women. He would see Ron out with any woman he wanted and grew terribly jealous of that freedom.

So Harry decided what Hermione didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Harry began cavorting around with women, getting the taste of lust he felt he missed in Hogwarts. Though one night he made a dreadful error, well in his mind now they were all errors, and brought a woman back to their home, and had her in their bed. He hadn't been expecting Hermione home for a few hours still considering her long hours with training to be a medi-witch. He hadn't expected her to arrive home early looking for a respite with her "loving" husband.

It was disastrous. He cried and begged as she angrily packed up her belongings magically. He knew then that he had been wrong. He hurt the only person he had truly loved throughout his entire life. And he looked into her eyes and saw how he had broken her. He was in such a state of agony. He knew he had royally fucked his life, in quite the literal sense.

So here he was, a mere month later, wallowing in pity in the now empty house staring at her picture and occasionally looking at the divorce papers he had been served with a few days previously. The papers were stained with tears, and specs of fire whiskey. And he noticed how badly the room smelled. It was then he realized he hadn't even showered in a few weeks or really eaten either. Harry was just a mess. He was lost. Hermione was his only one, and he had lost her.

A/N Ok so I've decided this will be a chaptered fic, if I get enough reviews liking it. This is a super short chapter that's for sure, but it's a test lol. I would love all the comments you can give me, or what you would like to see happen! Thanks for reading!

Sincerely,

Flair Verona the Slytherin Queen


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